The First Night
by Mimi 143
Summary: It's the night of Rose's first adventure with the Doctor and the strange couple is returning to the TARDIS. The Doctor and Rose discover a little about each other. Just some fluff.


Rose and the Doctor slowly strolled back to the TARDIS, arm in arm, after their first day of mad adventure. Rose was so drained of energy from running from explosions, ducking and jumping, that she could barely see straight and stumbled a bit after stepping over the TARDIS threshold; delirious from exhaustion, she seemed to believe that it was the funniest thing she had ever done and started giggling uncontrollably. As the Doctor, a broken-hearted, melancholy ancient alien looked down at her, he could feel a warmth in his hearts that he hadn't felt for so long. There was a yearning in his chest to know if she felt the same warmth, the same security he felt when he watched her laugh.

"Come on, Rose," he said, as he guided her through the twisting and turning corridors of the space ship. Rose continued to laugh, and the Doctor's heart continued to feel a good kind of ache.

"First you show me the end of the world, and now you'r gettin' me into bed! Talk about a fast relationship!" Rose teased.

He just hoped it wouldn't go to fast; go so fast that this beloved pink and yellow girl would flare and fade away from his life... just like so many more before her. But he didn't say anything like that. He held her close and made sure her feet were moving in the right direction. They walked in mostly silence for a bit, an occasional hiccup of laughter escaping from Rose.

"Its been a hell of a day, hasn't it, Rose?" he said nonchalantly. "I'm so happy you're safe," he whispered mostly inaudibly. Right after he said it he hoped she hadn't heard him.

They arrived at the door and Rose turned to the Doctor, not laughing any longer but still smiling. He felt the warmth.

"Thank you, Doctor," she said, looking up at him.

"For what, Rose? I almost got you killed 100 different times and wasted your job all within twenty four hours!" The Doctor said with an intonation of guilt creeping into his speech. "I'm not joking when I say if anything had happened to you I wouldn't have been able to live with myself, you know."

"Well I'm not dead, am I? And I really don't think I'll need my old job back anytime soon. Unless you're implying something..." she said, wobbling back and forth from trying too hard to stand still.

"No! Not at all… it's just most people wouldn't really want to keep traveling after facing so much danger." He seemed awkward and embarrassed. "They usually leave me."

"Well, I'll tell you now, I guess: I don't exactly consider myself 'most people'. Don't get your hopes up, Mister, because you won't be shaking me off so easily. It would take an army of ghosts to separate the two of us. Goodnight, Doctor." She turned to open her bedroom door, but pivoted on her heel at the last second; she gained her balance by gently spreading her arms against the door frame. She pushed herself onto her toes and looked into the Doctor's eyes. And she saw stories. She saw flame. She saw madness. She saw all the strength of a big, bad wolf. But most of all she saw a need to be loved. She kissed the tip of his shiny nose.

The warmth spread through his entire body. It spread from his hearts through his belly and down his legs making his toes tingle. It flowed like water through his arms and he felt strong, suddenly filled with her spunk and wisdom. They had just kissed. Technically.

At first a look of sadness and worry covered his face making him look his true age of 900 years. He saw Rose react with the same expression. He had stolen another life, for his sake. He had already made her look up to him. But then Rose spoke in a caring, clear voice: "Are you alright, Doctor?" And then he realized: she had stolen his life, too. They were both to blame. And it made him happy. "Doctor... you know I'm just as broken as you." And he knew it was true. He just nodded.

"Are you warm enough, Rose?" he asked, trying to disregard what she had just said. Because what she just said hurt: a child, with just as much pain and regret as him.

"Yes, Doctor," she smiled. "Are you?"

"I guess I am, if you are," he replied. She looked up at him with a look of regret and he mirrored the same one back; they seemed to be able to do that often. Then he wrapped his arms around her small frame and she did the same back.

They stayed like this for a while. They listened to each others' breathing. She heard his two heartbeats but disregarded it: it wasn't important. The couple stayed intertwined in each others warmth, smelling each other's smell and trying to remember the last time they felt like this. They both couldn't.


End file.
